


Even liars can love

by TheRomanticSadist



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: (kind of - it's K giving Dec sleeping pills and only referenced), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Declarations Of Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-The Dream Thieves, Rare Pairings, The Dream Thieves Spoilers, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Smoking, crack ship, pre-TDT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRomanticSadist/pseuds/TheRomanticSadist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Confessions of love are never easy.</p><p>They're even worse when they're about Kavinsky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even liars can love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HerRavenBoys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerRavenBoys/gifts).



> What can I say, I'm self indulgent Devinsky trash *shrugs* AND it was my birthday yesterday when I wrote this so I can do what I want~ Enjoy!
> 
> For El, because she destroys me with headcanons about these two~  
> Thank you to [ Kim ](http://kurrroo.tumblr.com/) for beta reading this!! *mwah*

“I love you.”

Silence. Declan’s staring at Kavinsky, who looks at him, blank and even Declan can’t help but be a bit worried. Kavinsky turns his head and Declan loses the chance to read him. The younger boy raises his cigarette to his lip. Declan swallows and considers repeating what he said, just in case he had only thought it. Thinking better of it, Declan instead tentatively reaches out and puts his hand over Kavinsky’s. His fingertips brush against the smooth surface of the Mitsubishi’s hood.

Kavinsky doesn’t even spare him a glance. It’s just a delayed reaction, Declan tells himself, and just as he thinks he needs to convince himself again, Kavinsky stubs the cigarette out on the hood. The action is aggressive and Kavinsky presses down with more force than he needs to. Declan would tell him off for ruining his car, but it’s not like he’d listen. When did he ever? Kavinsky turns his head away from Declan, lips in a thin line. The fiery sunset should make him burn in the light, but Kavinsky is untouchable. He takes his hand away from Declan.

“Joseph?” Declan controls his voice, makes it soft, hides the hurt. This was a mistake after all. He should have just kept his mouth shut, but Kavinsky isn’t laughing at him, nor is he disgusted. Kavinsky leans back onto the car and blows out a thin stream of smoke. “Hey, are—”

“Tell me again.”

Declan swallows and nods, then says it again. “I love you, Joseph.” He’d say it a thousand times, just for him. Always for him.

Kavinsky’s thin lips twist upwards. “Liar.” He says it almost softly, but it’s so emotional that Declan himself almost feels like he did just lie to him. Declan snarls, frustration growing at how easily he was dismissed, at how Kavinsky didn’t even consider how much thought he had put into telling him.

“I’m not lying!”

At this, Kavinsky laughs, loud and careless into the evening air. Declan clenches his jaw and glares, blue eyes dark.  “Stop talking shit, Lynch. Everyone knows you’re a liar.” Kavinsky snorts and reaches to his right. A cool bottle of vodka balances perfectly on the hood and Kavinsky wraps his hand tightly around the glass neck. If he’s got to listen to the bullshit coming from Declan’s mouth, he’s going to need more than one bottle. He’ll easily get more after a nap.

The moment that Kavinsky raises the bottle to his lips, a shiver runs through his body. He throws the bottle and lets the cool liquid burn down his throat and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Declan Lynch open his mouth. Being the wonderful student president he is, Kavinsky suspects he was about to tell him off.

Declan knows that he could never control Kavinsky before, so he stops himself before scolding him. Instead, he waits. He waits for Kavinsky to finish his drink, watches him throw the bottle into the trees beside them and lets him wipe off the excess on his lips leisurely.

Kavinsky sighs slowly and slowly sits up. Declan runs a hand through his chestnut hair and tries again. He reaches out to grab Kavinsky’s wrist, feeling his pulse beat beneath his fingertips. “I’m not lying about this.” There’s a small jump in Kavinsky’s pulse, but Declan thinks he may have imagined that. Kavinsky is still frowning about him. Declan lowers his voice and moves closer. “Not about you.”

“Then you’re just another dream.” Kavinsky spits, glaring at the setting sun as if it were to blame for his shitty life. Kavinsky hardly gets anything good, so why on earth should he get Declan Lynch too?

Up on this look out point, the whole of Henrietta extends in front of them. It isn’t spectacular, but it’s theirs. For a few moments, they can get away and look down upon it, like they’re the rulers of the world. The sun soon begins to set faster. Declan needs to let him know before they’re wrapped in darkness again.

“Joseph.” He tries to get his attention, using the voice he saves to tell off the younger students. Of course Kavinsky doesn’t react to it. Declan rolls his eyes and grips Kavinsky’s exposed arm. “Hey, Joseph, just— listen to me!”

Like he has all the time in the world, Kavinsky takes off his sunglasses and looks. At first, his face is tense and pissed off. Then Kavinsky’s eyes narrow and dark eyes alight. If Declan didn’t know any better, he would have braced himself for an attack. But Declan _did_ know better. That glare isn’t full of hate, it’s a warning. “Dream or not, I’ll fuck you up, Lynch,” Kavinsky shakes his head. Doesn’t Declan know what he’s getting himself into? Kavinsky brings a leg up, bending it at the knee and rests his cheek on it. He studies Declan and smiles but anyone can tell there’s no joy in it. No pride. “Just like I do to everything else.”

Declan bites his lip, swallowing down a lump in his throat. He doesn’t cry. He hasn’t cried since his dad’s death, and even then it was in private. He doesn’t understand why Kavinsky won’t accept what he’s saying. After three months, he would have thought Kavinsky would have trusted him, even a little. But neither of them are people who expect a sappy romance speech.

It’s always been difficult with Kavinsky.

Declan isn’t sure how they started. They began with drunk parties and waking up in each other’s beds, but it wasn’t until Kavinsky started supplying him with his sleeping pills did they really start talking. He knew Kavinsky only from what was said about him in the halls of Aglionby and what news he had heard from his previous girlfriends, but he was another kind of enticing in person.

Declan loosens his grip on Kavinsky’s arm. “I’m not a dream.” He assures. His voice is soft and he leans closer. Kavinsky hesitates, but he jerks his head up a little, but he will never be the one to chase. He’ll leave that to others.

“I’m real,” Declan whispers against his lips. Kavinsky holds his breath for a second, mouth tingling with anticipation. Against his wishes, his heart races and he knows it’s not because of the drugs. Declan’s eyes flicker down to Kavinsky’s scarred lips, scan along the hollows of his cheeks, meets his dark, secretive gaze. “We’re real.”

Like handling an explosive, one about to go off, Declan reaches out and places his fingers delicately on Kavinsky’s jaw. He handles him with a fragile kind of care, like Kavinsky is someone he could break but one look at the boy and Declan realises something. He cannot break what’s already broken.

Declan doesn’t have the chance to kiss him. Kavinsky is the one who surges forward, skinny fingers threading themselves into the mess of brown hair. The force of Kavinsky crashing into him is enough to make Declan fall back onto the hood of the car. A slight shock of pain shoots through Declan’s head, but Kavinsky draws his attention back by biting down on his lower lip. Kavinsky climbs over him without breaking the kiss and straddles his hips instead. He presses against Declan, body flush against the older boy’s.

Declan groans, one hand still on Kavinsky’s jaw, the other now on his back. He slides his hand under the white tank top. Declan’s eyelids flutter and he arches his neck up as Kavinsky devours his neck, leaving a mess of purple marks as he bites and sucks at his skin. This, Declan believes, is how Kavinsky shows his affection. Not with words, but with actions. Soon, Kavinsky slows his kisses and he stops, hovering above Declan’s mouth. Declan opens his eyes, panting quietly beneath him.

Behind him, the sun is in a perfect place to create a golden glow behind Kavinsky. The light spreads across the sky, eventually dimming into the silky, navy heavens above them.

“This,” Kavinsky breathes into Declan’s mouth, “This is real.”

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism would be great if you have any to offer, I'll take anything on these two, they were... difficult. 
> 
> I hope you liked it, the devinsky tag was a bit dead so I wanted to try change that! If you did like it, [ reblog this maybe?](http://ravenboyparrish.tumblr.com/post/133960202042)
> 
> Find me on tumblr [ here](http://ravenboyparrish.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Edit: 23/7/16 - Hi! If any of your ship pynch, could you also check out [ Pynch week ](http://pynchweek.tumblr.com/) on tumblr since I'm co-hosting it (and will probably participate in it too)! It would be great if you could spread the word and I hope to see some of you taking part as well! ♥ Thanks!


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